Beneath thy silvery boughs—in their deep shade
To woo the zephyr’s kiss.
There now, thou standest lone;
And as the winds thine ancient branches sway,
Thou dost respond to their light mirthful play,
With melancholy moan.
[[3]]The wandering Arab hears,
And deems in thee unearthly spirits dwell;
Then hastes with flying foot the tale to tell,
Of his dark doubts and fears.